


you've got me wrapped around your finger

by april-in-the-place-to-be (aprilshxwers)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Confused John, Everyone Is Gay, Gay, Homophobic Language, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Modern Era, Pining, Red String of Fate, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, and just, but are we surprised, but like, fun stuff yknow, i think? lets see how much restraint i have, just idiots in general, oh so much pining, practically everyone - Freeform, we cant just not have token straights, when is he not, with, yes im basic we've been knew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 21:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30146142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilshxwers/pseuds/april-in-the-place-to-be
Summary: John has something they call the Sight, he's able to see the red string that connects soulmates. It's one of the things he's always been taught to keep hidden, along with the... other thing.The funny thing? John doesn't even have a string himself. It's impossible for someone to fall in love with him, the universe itself had finalized it. Then again, he supposes Alexander Hamilton doesn't care much about what he's told he can't do.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	you've got me wrapped around your finger

John had always been able to see the strings. Everyone knew about the strings, what they meant, it wasn't many that could see them, though. He could, he could see the delicately wrapped strands around a couple holding hands, their pinkies intertwined, fond smiles on their faces, love in their eyes. 

He wished he could have something like that. 

He didn't think he would.

After all, John Laurens didn't have a string.

It was ironic, really. One of the few people with the ability to see the connections between soulmates, and he didn't have one.

_"Mama, will no one love me?" John had asked when he'd first learned in school what soulmates were, what all of those red strings he'd seen meant, his eyes big and fearful. Eleanor Laurens had taken his small hands in hers, shaking her head. John found it hard to believe her 'I love you's when fate itself had decreed that no one else could._

It wasn't that he didn't feel romantic attraction to anyone, he was just... wrong.

Francis had been the first one he had fell for, with his soft blue eyes and even softer blonde hair that John had loved running his hands through whenever he kissed him. 

_"Promise not to tell your father, darling," Eleanor had said to him one day. He might have been around thirteen at the time, had come to her gushing about the boy who earlier that day had '_ _kissed me, mom! Kissed me!'_ _She smiled sadly and tucked one of her son's curls behind his ear. "I'm sorry, my love, not everyone's as accepting as we want them to be."_

It had lasted until around John had turned fifteen, had never had been something lasting, not an actual capital-O official relationship. Francis eventually found a girl more perfect for him than John could ever be. Someone who he could actually wrap his arms around, spin around, and messily kiss all in public without anyone batting an eye. 

John hadn't been particularly hurt by it. It made sense, of course. He had seen the string around Francis's pinkie lead to Anne's as she gesticulated wildly as she told her friends something new that happened that day, neither of them knowing, yet still managing to find each other in the end.

_"Be careful with who you tell about what you can see, Jackie," Eleanor murmured, brushing away the tears from John's face. It had been the first day of school. He had proudly told his new classmates what he could do. "Be glad that your teacher only laughed it off. There are people who'll do bad things for love, it's not as beautiful as it seems."_

However, John had told someone. Charles Lee. He'd been a senior, John a junior. A surprised _"You don't have a string."_ Charles had asked him to explain, his head tilted to the side and his lips quirked up slightly, hair lightly falling into his eyes. John had quickly looked away, biting his lip and remembering his mother's words. 

Then there had been a hand gently lifting his chin and a _"You don't have to talk about it."_ John returned it with a shy smile.

Over the course of who-knows-how-long, Charles's soft touches and words had become heated kisses against walls that left John gasping for breath, fingers under his clothes, yanking at his hair, nights spent over for fake studying, free periods spent in empty classrooms and low whispers in his ear between classes. 

Some strange part of him had made him think he could trust Charles. Had spilled everything about what he could see, about his father running for Senator, his mother's declining health, everything. _"You can rant as much as you want,"_ Charles had said, almost nonchalantly, his eyes trained anywhere but John's face, trailing down his body in a way that made him want to curl up and hide somewhere, but he had talked anyways, not having anyone else to turn to that he could talk to any of those things about.

He shouldn't have trusted him enough to bring him to his own house, especially.

_"Not there."_ John struggled against Charles's grip, trying to push him away. Hands that used to touch him so gently were pressed against his throat to get him to stop moving. He was fairly sure they would leave bruises, although he doubted they'd be as visible as the marks being made against the side of his jaw. He didn't dare move nonetheless, trying to regulate his breathing at the pressure against his throat. 

John had pushed Charles his clothes and shakily told him to get out as soon as he had moved away, trying not to cry as he looked at the hickies scattered so visibly on his skin, easy enough for his father to make the connection between where he'd been and the fact that he hadn't had any just the night before. 

_"And you wonder why you're messed up," Henry had spat, John ducking his head, trembling. "I didn't raise a fag."_

He didn't remember much else, just the day after, covering up even more bruises as he went to visit his mother, new ones blooming brightly along his arms and face. She had barely noticed. She seemed so _tired_ and _worn out._

It wasn't long until she was gone.

John had realized it before the doctors had. He'd been watching his father closely, curling an arm around his younger siblings, making sure the hand tightly wrapped around the mug he'd been holding didn't raise to strike any of them. He just knew he couldn't let them get hurt, not because of him. 

He hadn't been expecting it, had frozen. _"Mama_ , _"_ he'd finally managed meekly as he saw the red string on his father's finger begin to darken, the knot loosening and dropping to the floor, the string withering into ashes before he could even process what was happening.

Henry had frozen. _"What did you say?"_ It was more fear than anger, a moment of weakness, vulnerability, something only Eleanor could bring out in him. He'd ushered his siblings out, eyes still glancing towards his father's now bare pinky.

_"She's gone."_

The funeral was blurry. Words said by politicians John had never met in his life, people from around Charleston who came to see the senator's wife. No, she wasn't Eleanor, she was just another headline, another event everyone would forget in a matter of weeks.

John hated it.

It only got worse during the summer, word getting out about Henry Laurens's son having the Sight. _There are people who'll do bad things for love,_ he remembered his mother saying. Pictures in the newspapers, speculation about his siblings, articles about _prices_. 

It was _too much too much too much_. When the acceptance letter from Columbia had come later in his senior year, he had felt as if he'd finally been able to breathe. No more Charleston, no more media posting anything and everything they could find without his consent. He'd be free, without his father bearing over him, without being constantly reminded about his... preferences.

Maybe he could even find someone who could love him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friendos :))  
> this is my first time writing for this fandom even though i've wanted to for years ksjnshfrhbfj  
> but anyways comments would be really great 🤗 i really want to know what you think of this


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